For Love and Fear of Fire
by xXxAshannahxXx
Summary: When an accident causes Malik to move to Japan, he's forced to attend Domino High School where he meets Bakura. They say opposites attract right? How about a pyrophobic and a pyromaniac? Better summary inside. AU
1. Prologue

Summary: Malik has lived in Egypt his whole life, but after an accident with his brother, the two are forced to move in with their older sister, Ishizu, in Japan. As a 16 year old sophomore, Malik attends Domino High. The worst first day is concluded with a detention in Art, with none other than Bakura, the biggest jerk on campus. After serving his painful detention, his hatred for the albino couldn't be clearer. What happens when the two are forced to partner with each other for a project? Can the pyrophobic and pyromaniac get along?

**DISCLAIMER: I pretty much own a whole lot of nothing. I don't even own the computer I'm on. Yugioh and all it's characters belong to the genius that is Kazuki Takahashi. **

Prologue

What's it called? That place between being awake and being asleep; what's the word for it? Where you can only remember what happened through nightmares and dreams. Is there a word for it, for that moment when your mind is only semi-conscious and memory is non-existent, a time in which your inhibitions and conscience can fail you? What if you're a boy who awoke in the middle of the night, thirsty and in need of a glass of water, but your mind is in this state? Would it have been his fault for fleeing? Could he be held responsible for leaving them to die when all his brain was able to register was danger?

Groggy. Groggy would definitely describe how he felt. He walked from his room to the kitchen, passing numerous family photos. His feet were cold against the bare wooden floor and he shivered slightly; but none of this was registered by the child's conscious mind. He was thirsty and there was water in the kitchen, that's all he knew. The air was ridiculously dry, even for Egypt, and he was parched. The ground was cold but the air was stifling. Everything was quiet. His parents were asleep in their room and Marik was at a party. Ishizu was probably awake and working, but that wasn't unreasonable for her. After all, it was almost 8:00 a.m. in Japan.

It was hot, way too hot. Smoke was everywhere, twirling, circling, enveloping, choking, killing, and he ran. Malik, the poor, helpless child of eleven years could only remember running. Running away from, running towards, he didn't know. He was just running.

--

The funeral was arranged a few days later. People Malik hardly knew were there. The service was short, but Malik didn't know whether that was because his mind was barely there or because there weren't any bodies to bury. Malik made a point to avoid all the candles that were lit inside that small room. He was terrified of them.

He wandered away from the main crowd to where his siblings were. Marik and Ishizu were arguing again. Ishizu felt that everyone should move to Japan with her, but Marik didn't want to uproot Malik in the middle of school. Marik had just turned eighteen and he had a steady job with average income. He would be able to support his little brother, but just barely. Ishizu knew that her baby brother would want to live more comfortably and she had a great job at a company called Kaiba Corporations.

Malik acted like he couldn't care less on way or the other, but secretly he agreed with his older brother. He understood that he'd have to make sacrifices if he stayed, but he didn't want to leave his parents….again. He knew they weren't really there, and that was entirely his fault. He couldn't leave. He wouldn't.

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**A/N: HIYA! Sorry, that wasn't the best greeting after a somber mood. (bows head for a few seconds) Okay! I know it was really short! And I'm sorry. Originally I wasn't going to even have a prologue, but I decided it was sort of necessary, unless you wanted to be completely clueless. In the next day (or maybe today, depending on if I actually finish or not) I'll post the actual first chapter, which will be much longer, I promise. I'm almost done with it actually. But I sort of started in the middle with this fic so now I'm stuck trying to glue this thing together somehow. I always suck at beginning stuff.**

**I won't even bother asking for reviews for such a pitiful excuse of a chapter. But if you –want- to, by all means, go ahead. ^.^**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, second chapter is up! I was originally going to hold it for a bit to try and squeeze out some more reviews, but my conscience kicked in. See, I am a nice person after all. Besides, last chapter was too short (not that this is much better).**

**Disclaimer: Yugioh is mine, all mine. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Just kidding. =) I own nothing. Zilch, Nada, Diddly-squat, Nil. Well, you get the point.**

* * *

~_Five years later~_

Malik yawned. Not one of those cute baby yawns, a yawn that nearly tore his face in half and made his eyes water. His lilac eyes glanced at the clock and he gasped in surprise. It was 11:00 pm! He'd been reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince for three hours already. Malik marked his place with a bookmark he had been given for his fifteenth birthday a couple weeks ago. Rubbing his head he sighed and got out of his cozy, twin-sized bed to stumble over to the chair where his backpack was on so he could pull out his reading log.

As he was walking, he stubbed his toe on the edge of the chair. Malik let out a long string of profanities while he hopped around on one foot, holding the other one in one hand and using the spare hand to try and balance himself. He sat back down on his mattress (mainly to avoid falling) and counted to thirty while he waited for the pain to subside. Either his feet had grown recently or he was clumsier than he used to be, but that was the fifth time that day his foot had painfully made contact with another object.

As soon as he decided that his toe wasn't going to explode he got up again and, carefully, made his way over to his backpack. Even though his foot was still throbbing, Malik let a proud smile grace his tanned features. He took pride in his academics. He was lucky to be going to this British school (1); not many people could afford it and it was one of the few schools around. Out of everyone in is his 10th grade class he was the only one who read over fifteen hours a week, let alone the twenty to twenty-five he usually read.

He really did have a social life and he hung out with friends, but he just wasn't the party type. He'd much rather stay home and read or sit down and draw for hours than go out and get wasted. He knew he was one of his teacher's, Mr. Akil's (2), favorite students. But that was probably because of what happened to him………and his parents. He knew what everyone at school whispered about him. They all felt sorry for him. Malik the abandoned……the orphaned.

He shuddered at the thought, the dangerous thought. He hated thinking about it, especially at night, right before he slept. Sleeping lead to dreaming, and dreaming always lead to nightmares.

Malik yawned again, which reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing. He pulled a pen out of the mess that was supposed to be his backpack. His teacher, though totally awesome, was completely anal about using ink instead of lead. He struggled, trying to yank his black binder out, for almost five minutes. The thing was seriously gigantic! And it obviously wanted to stay inside his backpack. Finally, he managed to pull it out and scribble down the book name, author, page amount, and time read. When he finished, Malik flung his pen back into the mess, closed the monstrous binder, and attempted to fit it through the zippers again. Now that it was out, apparently it didn't want to go back in. Gah! Stupid, ridiculous, asinine, bipolar monster of a binder!!

"Please! Please, just stop!" a voice from outside his bedroom whimpered. "Just leave me alone! No, no, no, no, NO, _NO, __**NO!**_"

He stopped what he was doing, letting the binder slip from his hands. He recognized his brother's voice. Malik could honestly say he was scared. His brother, cocky, arrogant Marik, had never sounded so desperate or so terrified. He didn't know what to do. Should he go and see what was happening? Should he call the police? He knew his slight form would be nothing compared to that of an attacker. But what would the police do? Would they even arrive in time?

_Stop being a coward _he scolded himself. He was sixteen for Ra's sake! _Marik would be running to the rescue if it was you and you know it._

Malik decided to just peek. After all, it was Marik out there and he wouldn't -no, he couldn't- leave his brother alone to deal with whatever it was that was happening.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and walked to the small kitchen. He kept thinking of how brave his brother was and how ashamed he would be if Marik found out that he had almost ran away. It was the only thing that could keep him walking down their long, dark hallway.

The house was so dark that his only sense of direction was his hands feeling their way across the walls and his feet gingerly gliding across the carpet. He saw the faint glow of the kitchen light and quickened his stride. When his feet hit the linoleum he stopped abruptly. He almost wished that there _had _been an attacker. It would have been easier to handle than what, at that moment, laid before his eyes.

"They're dead!!! This isn't happening. This isn't real!!" Malik froze. Marik was standing in the kitchen and holding his head in his hands. Both hands were clenched so hard that, had he been holding anything else but his skull, it would have already shattered. His wild and crazy tresses were sticking up at angles that weren't normal, even for him. Like his fingers had made multiple trips through his platinum hair. His shoulders were hunched, as if he believed that by condensing his form, he could keep the inner demons away.

He kept whimpering the word 'no', over and over again, shaking his head back and forth, trying to deny the false reality; trying to keep a hold on his sanity.

Even though Marik's back was towards him, Malik could see that he was trembling. His whole frame was shaking violently. But as frightening as it was to see his brother in such a panicked, deranged state, it was nothing compared to the fear that slowly tore its way through Malik's intuition at seeing the knife his brother held between his right hand and his head.

"Marik? Marik…wh-what's going on?"

At hearing his younger sibling's voice, Marik turned around instantly. The look in his eyes sent shivers down Malik's spine. Marik's violet eyes were pools of raging madness. They burned with agony, horror, and rage; the eyes of a man who is dying, of a man with nothing to loose. "Marik!!! Put the knife _down_!" Malik shrieked. Marik just kept shaking his head.

"Malik? They won't go away. I see their faces. It wasn't my fault!!! Leave me alone! No!! Why!?!? PLEASE!!!!" his cries kept getting more and more frantic. Malik was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything to stop the scene taking place before his very eyes; incapable of assessing the situation. He couldn't move forward, he couldn't comfort his brother. He could only watch as his brother's stability deteriorated with the passing seconds.

"Just go A_**WAY!!!!!**_"

With that last screech Marik lifted the knife and drove the gleaming blade into his stomach with as much force as possible. He crumpled as soon as his hands stopped their plunge. Malik, snapping out of his frozen stupor, screamed and ran forward to catch his brother before he crashed onto the floor. Marik's hands slackened on the deadly knife as his energy ebbed. Crimson liquid poured from the pierced gash, covering his entire front with hot, red life-blood.

"MARIK!!! What the…why?!?!" Marik, unable to answer his little brother's sobbing pleas, allowed his eyes to flutter and close as his lips tilted upwards in a sardonic, nostalgic smile. Malik was completely hysterical. He set his brother gently on the ground and ran to the cabinet in the hallway to get towels, washcloths, rags, anything he could get his shaking, frantic hands on. He threw himself back down and, with hands barely capable of functioning, pulled the knife out and held the towel over Marik's gaping wound. His vision blurred as a torrent of tears made their salty trails down his tanned cheeks.

Hoping beyond hope that his brother could be saved he rushed to the phone, fumbling with it due to his still shaking hands. He dialed 911(3) while scrambling back to his still bleeding brother and waited all of two rings before a calm, female voice asked, "Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" Her voice was plagued with fatigue, as if she had been doing this job for way too long and finally realized that she couldn't keep caring about every victim that called.

"My brother!! Oh gods there is so much blood! Please, I need help!! He…he just went all…I couldn't do….he just…he stabbed himself!!! PLEASE send help! I don't think….Oh gods, so much blood!!" If the operator sounded cool and collected, then Malik was the exact opposite. His voice kept trembling and he had to cut off completely in places due to the thick knot that had settled next to his vocal chords.

"Sir, calm down, we're tracing the call now. Help is on its way. In the meantime, apply pressure to the stab wound and keep him breathing." Malik nodded, too horrified to realize the lady on the phone couldn't see him. He hung up and removed the now soaked towel in order to replace it. He pulled a rag from the pile he had accumulated, gently and deliberately placing it over the parasitic hole that devoured his brother's vitality. He watched the fabric slowly change from white to crimson; Malik knew that Marik's life receded as the cloth absorbed more of his sanguine liquid.

He pulled him into his lap and rocked back and forth, begging all gods, known and unknown, that his brother would survive. He was his family, his guardian, his friend. Nothing could destroy this pillar of strength that he so relied upon. _Nothing! _It couldn't, he wouldn't let it!

But as he watched Marik's breathing become less frequent and more ragged, doubt started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

_Please let them get here soon!_

--

The hours in the hospital flashed across Malik's gaze as if everything was being played from a broken projector. His mind was in too much shock to really understand anything that was being said; all he heard was noise.

_What the fuck was Marik thinking? How could he do this to me? To this family? What was going on in his brain to make him think that this was okay? Is he delusional? Is he mental? What was he screaming about? Was it Mom and Dad? How could it have been his fault when it was all mine? Was he feeling guilty? Did he regret taking me in? What, what, _**what **_was he thinking?_

His mind ran in useless circles He only broke his dreamlike daze when the doctor had come to talk to him. His shock-induced trance only enabled him to comprehend snippets of what the doctor said.

"…..too much blood-loss…..….lost him for a moment….….it seems….suffering from schizophrenia…..unable to care for….you are a minor…..needs supervision…..medication….." the doctor went on for what felt like an eternity, each statement harsher than the last; it almost seemed purposeful. The doctor had a slight tan, but it wasn't deep enough to come from spending all his time in the sun. His hair was dark and sprinkled with grey. The doctor had electric blue eyes that only made Malik feel even more uncomfortable with the whole situation. The guy definitely wasn't Egyptian, or from any country around here. Maybe he was European, or he could even been United Statesian(4). Malik had nodded in the appropriate places, but couldn't focus on the exact words the foreign doctor was spitting out. He was glad he knew how to speak English. It was difficult at first, but his schooling was thorough.

After the doctor had finished, Malik shook his hand and sat back down, thoughts still running around in circles.

_Now what's gonna happen? Jeez Marik, you've really screwed things up. _That was harsh and Malik knew it. He felt guilty almost immediately after thinking it. Marik, though sarcastic and slightly deranged, had been nothing but caring for Malik. Anyone else would use rougher adjectives like maniacal and cruel, and though this was the exterior he displayed on a daily basis, Marik had a natural soft spot for his little brother. Even Ishizu, the oldest, had never stuck up for….

"SHIT!" Malik cursed out loud. In the complete pandemonium, he had forgotten entirely about his older sister. He had no idea if anyone had notified her yet, but this did not stop Malik from achieving a full-on panic attack. He reached into his pocket to pull out his cell-phone, but stopped when he realized he was searching in vain. He knew exactly where his phone was: next to his sketchpad, on his desk, by his bed, in his house, almost twenty miles away! The only things he managed to grab during the chaos while the medics raced around were his wallet and his Ipod. He hadn't given anything else a second thought until now.

Frantically he searched for a payphone. After running around the waiting room for nearly ten minutes, Malik realized he should probably calm down. He took a few calming breaths and scanned the walls for a white box. A few minutes later, he found what he was looking for next to the bathrooms and drinking fountain. He hurried towards it, hoping no one else would need it for a while. He grabbed a few coins from his wallet and dropped them in the slot after picking up the phone, but he hesitated in dialing the long distance number.

Was it right to take away Ishizu's peace of mind? Right now, her biggest concern is whether or not the new state of the art electronics will sell. What gave Malik the right to dismantle his sister's mental serenity?

"Hey buddy, you gonna use that?" A gruff voice from behind him asked.

Malik took a deep breath and made his decision. He dialed Ishizu's number.

--

"Yes Ishizu…………….I'll let him know……….love you too……bye." Malik sighed as he dropped the phone back on the receiver.

His phone call to Ishizu had left him even more stressed than before, which was saying something. She knew that with Marik's condition, he would no longer be able to take care of Malik. The only conclusion she could think of was for the two brothers to move to Japan and live with her. Although there weren't any other plausible solutions, Malik vehemently and stubbornly declined the idea. He knew he would lose. What else could he do? Send Marik to a mental facility? That would put him in an orphanage somewhere. Ishizu was the only option.

It wasn't as if he disliked his sister. On the contrary, he missed the 27 year old with a passion. Except for brief visits during the holidays, they hadn't seen their older sister for almost three years. No, what he rejected was the concept of moving over 6,000 miles away. It intimidated him. His whole life was spent in Egypt. He had all his friends here and was in the middle of high school. He didn't even know how to speak Japanese!

The waiting room was not a pleasant place to be stuck in with your thoughts. He opted for not thinking as he pulled out his Ipod and played whatever he could as loud as he could.

--

He was woken up by a shake of his shoulders. Groggily Malik opened his eyes. It was really loud. Where was he? The room was full of random people and completely white. He jolted out of his chair but stopped overreacting when he recognized where he was; the hospital. Damnit! Why was it so loud? Realizing the problem, Malik yanked his headphones from his ears. He rubbed his temples; the quiet atmosphere did nothing for the pounding in his skull. Memory came crashing back to him so fast he became dizzy and would have lost his balance if it weren't for a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched and withdrew from the contact. He looked up and saw what woke him in the first place. A girl no older than Ishizu stood in front of him. She was wearing a white uniform shirt tucked into a white skirt and her bright red hair was pulled back into a bun. Her green eyes held concern and pity. Malik hated pity.

"Ummm, Mr. Ishtar?" The nurse questioned. Malik simply nodded, averting his gaze from her sympathetic eyes.

"You're brother is awake now if you would like to see him."

**~A/N: 1-** "**New Cairo British International School", it's an actual school in Nasr City, no joke, and it's one of the few around right now. I don't know which government is in charge of the movement (pretty sure it's non profitable British organizations), but people are trying to build more schools out there. Dunno how many are actually up and running, I just know that NCBIS is. =)**

**If you really, really, really wanna know more (or try and prove me wrong =P ) you can either Google it or go to **

_www_**DOT**_gsgi_**DOT**_co_**DOT**_uk/countries/egypt/cairo/new-cairo-british-international-school-ncbis_

**2-The Egyptian meaning of Akil is 'intelligent'. I thought it would be kinda cool to have a teacher's name mean smarts. ^.^ **

**3- I have no idea if 911 exists outside of the USA (I doubt it, but who knows) so just pretend it does. It was too hard to try and find 'emergency response teams in Egypt'. I was not in the mood to spend **_**that **_**much time researching. X.X**

**4- Hehe, it's a real word…sort of. Who knew my Spanish class would actually pay off? Most other countries (mainly in South/Central America) don't call people from the United States American. Hispanics refer to them as Estados Unidenses, which means United Statesian because they feel that South (and Central) America is American too.**

**So….explanations aside….how was it? Honestly? I know the brief glimpses of Marik might have seemed a bit OOC, BUT!!! I tried hard not to make it seem like that. Later on you'll see he isn't insecure at all, but come on! He had a complete schitzo attack! –dodges random sharp objects thrown at her- OKAY! Okay, I give! He'll be different from now on! But he will still have a soft spot for Malik and you can throw whatever you want at me, I won't change my mind –grabs sister for defense-**

_Hey!! Don't bring me into this! That was completely your idea!!_

**I know, but you said it was good.**

_That's because it ~is~ good. Would I lie to you?_

…**.0.o yes**

_Hehe, you know me too well._

**Review please? **


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N: I know! Don't yell at me! It's been waaaaayyyy too long since my last update, but I have an excuse; an actual, legitimate excuse! I was grounded from the computer for forever, and then when I tried to sneak back on, my mom caught me so I was grounded for even longer. When my grounded-ness relented a bit I had to go and fall off a wall. I sprained my wrist pretty badly (it was all purple and black!) and could barely move it, let alone type. But it seems the universe was working against me because two days after my wrist started feeling better I got my wisdom teeth removed. I was all jacked up on vikadin, and as amusing as the story might have been, it would probably have made no sense. I had dislocated my elbow a few years ago and was given vikadin for the pain. I had a research project due in history, but instead of writing about ancient China, I wound up writing about teletubbies. GAH, frustration! –breathes deeply- There is some good news to this huge as crazy delay; I was able to get a basic outline of where this story is gonna go (woohoo!). Now, hopefully, updates will be a lot quicker. **

**Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter! Hopefully you haven't given up on this story because I haven't. Special shout out goes to Eggy! Thanks for the tip(s) and the really long review. =) I'll definitely work on my punctuation. ****(See? Punctuation!)**

**Disclaimer:** Ahem. Because my collateral revenue is disproportionate to that of Kazuki Takahashi, it is egregious and insurmountable to ascertain that I, in any form, possess Yugioh

**Translation**: **I'm broke so I obviously own zilch.**

**On with the fictitious writings!!!**

The nurse's revelation was thrown at Malik's mental ramblings; however, instead of her words acting as a lifesaver to pull him safely from his confusing, guilt-provoking thoughts, they served more as a whip, lashing through his being with a resounding 'crack'. He had imagined nothing but relief flooding his mind when someone finally came to provide him with an update on Marik's status; but now he was having second thoughts about seeing his older brother. Not only was he dreading the inevitable conversation, but he was also hesitant about witnessing his brother in such a weak state. Marik was always a safety net he could fall back on when his own strength failed. Malik hated to admit it, but part of him was scared. What if Marik wasn't Marik anymore? As brash and as rude as he was, Malik had come to enjoy his brother's sarcastic comments and forward demeanor. Would this…change him?

Indecision was apparent on the boy's face, but it only lasted a moment. Malik straightened his back and gestured for the nurse to lead the way. She nodded once, not exactly understanding the pained confusion the teenager expressed a second ago, and started walking down the hall towards the elevator.

Four floors, eleven corridors, and seven wrong-turns later, the two finally arrived at the right door. Malik was starting to believe that the clueless nurse either had a really awful sense of direction or she was just new. She checked her clipboard once and looked back at the numbers posted by the door, even though the action was unnecessary. The name Marik Ishtar was posted right next to three digits announcing the room number.

Malik turned towards the door, but paused when he felt an ever so familiar hand on his shoulder. He turned back towards the nurse, ready to yell at her for keeping him from his brother any longer, but the words died on his tongue as he noticed the fierce determination on the woman's face.

"Mr. Ishtar, I understand that you've had a rough past couple of hours but I strongly advise you to keep your calm while with him; he's been through a lot more than you have. His condition is not one to be taken lightly and I want to let you know right now that any harsh reactions towards your brother will result in your immediate displacement from this facility. Am I clear?"

Malik was torn between indignation and awe. This nurse reminded him so much of his sister; both seeming harmless unless they had a cause. He was glad that someone who clearly worried so much about Marik was taking care of him. He smiled tentatively at the nurse in gratitude.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of it Ms…."

"O'Hare. But you can call me Siobhan." she answered with a smile. She could see the boy's tense form start to relax. He bobbed his head quickly and turned to face the door once more. The nurse made her departure then, not wanting to intrude on something so personal.

Malik took a deep breath to calm his sudden spike in nerves, and twisted the door handle. He pushed the door open slowly. The first thing he noticed was how white the room seemed. Was there no color in this whole hospital? The walls were white, the curtains were white, even the floor was white. It was as if the staff believed that by keeping everything bleached-looking, they could warp the sensation of death that lingered behind every door and around every corner. In Malik's opinion though, it only intensified the spectral impression.

The room was rectangular with a small window on the other side. There was a soft, repetitive beeping coming from the machine that Marik was hooked up to. Malik was happy that no one was forcing his brother to share a room with anyone else. He walked over to the hospital bed, but stopped when he saw his brother's sleeping figure. _I thought they said he was awake?!_

He sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs next to the window, and took the time to assess his brother's appearance. His hair wasn't spiked up and the doctors had apparently cleaned his face of all the eye make-up he usually wore. Marik's face was the most relaxed he had seen it in years. With his hair down, make-up gone, and face void of stress, he and Malik looked eerily alike.

He was appreciative of the extra time he had to organize his thoughts. He still didn't know what he was going to say. Accusations weren't the best way to start out. Even if he felt inclined to blame anything on Marik he still wouldn't start hurling criticism at his sibling. He could tell the nurse would follow through with her threat and Malik wasn't exactly in the mood to be tossed from a hospital at almost six in the morning. He wondered vaguely whether or not the school would excuse his absence for the day. They most likely would, he'd just have to track down Ms. Siobhan and ask for a doctor's note.

Malik's thought process froze when the beeping suddenly stopped. The machine started issuing a low monotonous buzz that Malik recognized; his brother's heart wasn't beating. Malik started shrieking for help as he rushed to his brother's side. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he perform CPR? He didn't even know what the letters stood for, let alone how to accomplish it! Malik paused in the middle of his panic-attack when he heard a chuckle coming from right next to him. He looked up to see his brother's smiling face, eyes alight with amusement.

"I always wanted to do that. I was sure you wouldn't fall for it. I guess you're still as gullible as ever."

Malik's jaw dropped. He didn't know whether he was more embarrassed, relieved, or furious. "You…but…and the…with your…GAH! Marik! How could you?! Do you know how close I came to running around the halls, screaming for help?" Malik crossed his arms in exasperation and sat back down in one of the chairs adjacent to the bed.

"As hilarious as that would have been, I probably would have stopped you before it came to that. Heh, you should have seen your face." Marik chuckled again, only this time it came out as more of a wheeze than a laugh. He doubled over coughing, a grimace on his face as his arm came up to wrap around his midsection.

Malik rushed to his brother's side, irritation forgotten. His hands fluttered around, searching for a safe place to offer assistance. Marik shoved the wandering hands away and placed the oximeter back on his finger.

"I'm fine, just a little sore. Stop worrying so much, you'll get wrinkles on that pretty face of yours." Malik rolled his eyes and went to sit down on the side of the bed, but he ignored his brother's request. Malik didn't think he could stop worrying if his life depended on it. The conversation lapsed into an awkward silence while Malik tried to think of a way to bring up what happened. He could tell that Marik was trying to blow it over as nothing by his blasé attitude. Marik always acted unconcerned when something was bothering him.

Malik struggled with his thoughts for almost five minutes. Marik, however, acted as if the tense atmosphere didn't affect him.

"You look like a hippo with your mouth open like that. Either close it or get to the point before a fly lands inside."

After a few more moments Malik finally whispered, "…why Marik?"

"Because I've heard they taste awful. I mean, if you _like_ eating flies, then be my guest. But I don't think you would, being a vegetarian and all…." Malik once again rolled his eyes at his brother's attempt at humor.

"You know that isn't what I meant. Why…why did you stab yourself? I mean, I know why, but not _why, _why. The doctors told me about your…problem and I just want you to know that I don't think you're crazy, well, crazier, but you gotta admit that slamming a knife into your stomach is pretty crazy, even for you. Were you even thinking about the consequences? What about Ishizu? Hell, what about me? I get that you can't exactly control what you think when you have an episode, let alone what you do, and yeah, I guess that you've been under a lot of stress lately, and sure, you haven't really had an outlet ever since Mom and Dad died but come on. I mean really…you see…because that's like…and for you to....you know?" Malik ended his rant with a dramatic sigh. Marik, however, stared at his little brother before blinking rapidly several times.

"How about you try that again, but actually make sense this time." Malik just shrugged before slumping into a chair. He scratched his head and rubbed at his face.

"You don't have to be difficult. I've been up for over twenty-four hours straight; my brain's a little muddled right now."

"I'd apologize, but your awful sleeping habits aren't really my fault. I will act a bit more serious though. I won't answer your first question. I don't want to freak you out anymore, since you already seem to be on the edge. No, I wasn't thinking about the consequences. That's just it though; I wasn't thinking about anything besides what was going on inside my head. It was really hard to tell the difference between what was actually happening and what I only thought was happening..." Marik's voice faded as he subsided into a contemplative silence.

Malik was speechless for a bit after Marik's surprising confession. He never actually expected his brother to tell him so seriously. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate the other's bluntness (for once). On the contrary, he would rather hear the answer straight forward rather than half-truths masked and convoluted by sour attempts at humor. "What…what did you think was happening?" Malik was finally able to ask softly.

"I'll tell you after you've gotten some sleep. It'll be enough then. I think if you hear it right now, you'd go as crazy as I am," Marik finished with a low chuckle that ended in a soft groan of pain.

Malik was getting annoyed by his brother's joking behavior. He knew that was just Marik's way of lightening the mood, but to speak of everything so nonsensically…. Malik saw it as a sort of safety mechanism- to hide behind humor and sarcasm instead of admitting that he was afraid. "You know this means you can't take care of me anymore, that we'll have to freaking move?" he stated cruelly.

The statement instantly sobered Marik up. "I know," he sighed. He raised his hands to his face and held his head for a moment. The room was silent except for the steady beeping of Marik's heart. "Look, I'll be okay. I think you should go home. It's been a hell of a night for you and you need your sleep."

"I'm not going home," Malik argued. "And I bet your night was worse. I'll sleep here, but I'm not leaving you."

"There are doctors everywhere. I don't need your help. And anyways, what exactly could you do?"

That struck low for Malik, but he didn't mention anything. Instead he just said "I'm not here to help. And I'm not staying just for you…. I'm staying for me too." Malik finished the last part in a low, enervated voice. "And besides, it's morning; I won't be able to sleep now."

Marik saw no further point in arguing, although he thought Malik should go home to sleep. He knew that his brother could be just as stubborn as him and quarreling over it further would just wear him out more.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when a nurse finds you passed out in a chair and asks you to leave." Malik stuck his tongue out and dragged the chair over to his brother's hospital bed. He was still unsatisfied with his brother's lofty answers, but he realized that now wasn't the best time to discuss things. Even if Marik wouldn't admit it, Malik knew his older brother was in pain. He could keep waving everything off with his nonchalant viewpoint, but Malik wasn't an idiot and he could tell that something was seriously bothering Marik. Marik had a temper and employed it whenever he possibly could; for him to shrug off something that allowed him to rant a rave meant that his emotions had already gone past any point of recognition. Malik missed the relaxed pose from earlier, but knew it was just a façade; Marik's smile was a bit too forced and his shoulders were tense.

A feeling of complete helplessness washed over Malik as he curled up on the chair. His eyelids were drooping, try as he might to stop them. He still hadn't resolved his conflicting emotions about the ordeal. He still had a bunch of questions to ask and he didn't know the whole story; but obviously those dilemmas would have to wait until later.

His eyes slid shut against his will.

**So yeah. Apologies for its extreme crappiness and lateness, but I'm reading this AMAZING manga called Loveless. A friend of mine (her screen name on here is Shoumai) recommended it and now my lovely readers I recommend it for you. However, if you're not that much of a fan of shonen-ai (why exactly are you reading this?) then I doubt you'd enjoy it as much. **

**So yeah, state testing coming up soon which means that instead of diligently writing fics, I'll be studying my assssssssspects off.**

**Comments would be appreciated!**

**Oh, and as a P.S…which sounds better in your guys' opinion, ****Secrets of Blood**** or ****Scarlet Secret****?**

"_A fine quotation is a diamond on the finger of a man of wit, and a pebble in the hand of a fool."_ Joseph Roux


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